


when the sky drinks in the sun ( a thousand specks of light. )

by romqntics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Altered French Monarchy System, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bucky Barnes Loves Plants, Bucky In Dresses, Bucky loves designer clothing, Crossdressing, F/M, Family Lines, France (Country), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Latin, M/M, Petite!Bucky, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Seasons, Soft!Bucky, i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 17:35:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romqntics/pseuds/romqntics
Summary: Flowers decorate the hem, and all the other fabric pools down his waist and onto the marble walkway. The sunrise creates a bit of a halo behind him, hair glowing chestnut with streaks of gold and auburn.Sam can’t fathom how to breathe.He always knew that the youngest prince was claimed to be the most fetching, but now, in this place, the prince is simply more. He’s been kissed by every god imaginable, even the sun covers him tenderly in pale light.





	when the sky drinks in the sun ( a thousand specks of light. )

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoy this.
> 
> take care of yourself.
> 
> \- bunny.

**･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.**

 

 

 **SAM DOESN’T UNDERSTAND** why he’s here.  The parties here are always stuffy, full of those eyeing Steve and his famed guard “Samuel”. He’s bored, arms crossed over his body, and aching for the bio-luminescent _surrexerunt vinum_ two tables in front of him.

 

The room they are in is large and ornate, hints of dusk pink and orange mixing like fairly compatible lovers on the high ceilings. Most of the aristocrats are sitting; others are looking at the esteemed guests in the middle of the room.

 

But who wouldn’t be? The _lux hieme_ are the hosting family for this year’s Spring Solstice ball. They almost look bored, thin mouths turned downwards at the corner, chestnut curls up in elegant variations of buns. He’s also pretty sure one is drunk, guessing by how empty the wine glass in hand is and the tell-tale rosy glow to their cheeks.

 

Another is playing _Menuet en Sol Mineur_ by some renowned composer in the corner, hands long and elegant.

 

Sam almost rolls his eyes, barely stopping himself in time for Steve to glance over at him. He just hates this all: the parties, the rich, the piano songs by composers with far too many vowels in only their first name. His hand lingers by his sword, eyes crawling over the scene to watch for any threat.

 

When satisfied, he gives a nod to his charge, signalling his intention to walk about the other parts of the palace, and walks out of the double doors. Palais de Carcacourt is breathtaking during any ball. The turrets are covered in sparkling ivy and threaded with angel-white roses.

 

He almost walks right past the small figure sitting on the bench in the glass garden. But when he does a double take,he knows from the lack of air in his lungs that he won’t be forgetting this face anytime soon.

 

The face in name is angular and hauntingly gorgeous, cheekbones high and eyes a startling blue that reminds Sam of the oceans back home. The owner of this face is small and almost scarily thin, hair styled in a maze of elaborate braids.

 

There are pins in it, some made of pearl and ruby, others of sapphire and gold. With his observation skills that got him assigned to captain of the guard kicking in, he registers the person as male and the youngest member of the _lux hieme_ line.

 

“Uh, Prince Buchanan. I am sorry to disturb you.”

 

The prince jumps up and flushes the prettiest red.

 

‘Call me Bucky, and you were not interrupting anything necessarily interesting.”

 

Sam’s attention is now drawn to the prince’s dress.

 

Its long and stunning, a light blue that shimmers and seems to disappear in the arriving morning light. There is a large bow adorning the back, sparkling and flashing to show off the copious amounts of shredded silver embedded in the fabric.  

 

Flowers decorate the hem, and all the other fabric pools down his waist and onto the marble walkway. The sunrise creates a bit of a halo behind him, hair glowing chestnut with streaks of gold and auburn.

 

Sam can’t fathom how to breathe.

 

He always knew that the youngest prince was claimed to be the most fetching, but now, in this place, the prince is simply more. He’s been kissed by every god imaginable, even the sun covers him tenderly in pale light.

 

And then he speaks.

 

“Sir-Sir-”

 

“Sir Samuel. You can call me Sam though.”

 

Bucky nods and then bites his lip.

 

“Sir Sam, could you possibly help me inside. My dress is quite...heavy and — ”

 

Sam smiles and holds out his arm.

 

Bucky is warm against him.

 

🌺

 

 **STEVE IS PRACTICALLY SHAKING** in surprise when Sam agrees to go to the luncheon without a fight. He sets his teapot down and holds the empty cup he was supposed to fill aloft.

 

“What?”

 

Sam raises an eyebrow and chuckles lowly.

 

“Okay. Four letters, two syllables. Not sure of the origin.”

 

Steve rolls his eyes.

 

“Ha. Very funny.”

 

He resumes pouring the tea and then hands the cup to Sam. After pouring his own cup, and then crossing the room to throw the drapes open,  he comments.

 

“Mmm, anyway, we were invited by Princess Peggy. Apparently her younger brother will be there as well.”

 

Sam shifts into profiling mode, zeroing in on the names. Steve continues talking, eyes tracing the flowers visible through the large bay windows.

 

“Apparently he’s very kind; hates the flamboyant things his family indulges in, always is trying to sneak food to the children outside the gates. He’s beloved.”

 

Sam hums and eats a bit of the bread on his tea plate or whatever the hell they call it.

 

“And he’s the youngest.”

 

Sam chokes.

 

🌺

 

 **PRINCESS PEGGY** looks beautiful, but Sam is focused on Bucky in the corner. He’s in all white this time, the dress elegant and floor-length. There’s a ruffle in a popping baby blue color, shimmering simply with a hint of barely there glitter.

 

His face is flushed and framed like art with his hair all down except for the few strands that have been pulled back.

 

“Steve! Sir Samuel!”

 

Sam smiles and kisses the princess’s hand, but is only focused on how the windows shed light on the opulent auburn strands in the younger prince’s hair.

 

“I am so glad you could make it! My parents have been so worried about the state of our treaty with the _hyacinthum._ No bad blood and all that.”

 

Bucky swats at his sister gently.

 

“Pegs, we should let them eat or drink before we start using heavily complicated terminology.”

 

Peggy laughs and moves to pick up the platter of sandwiches on the table in front of them.

 

“Sit!” She waves a hand at them.

 

Steve sits next to the princess while Sam maneuvers so he’s next to Prince Buchanan. The prince blushes and stuffs a sandwich into his mouth, cheeks flaming red. Sam smirks and sips his glass of water.

 

Peggy wanders around, putting various delicacies on their plates, and then sits. She opens her mouth to speak, but then she snaps her head around to stare at her brother.

 

“You gave the macaroons to the children outside the gates again, didn’t you?”

 

Bucky blushes even more and drains his glass of water.

 

“One can never be too sure!”

 

“Too sure, my _cul_!”

 

Bucky sputters and shoots rapid fire French at his sister. She just grins brightly and summons a servant to acquire more macaroons. The rest of the luncheon continues without further interruptions, Steve and Peggy gradually settling closer in together.

 

Sam and Bucky share a knowing look and then smother giggles. Peggy glances up and then her face colors a soft pink.

 

“Buchanan, why don’t you show Sir Samuel around the grounds?”

 

“Of course, sister.”

 

Sam has forgotten how lilting his voice is. All light and free, like sucking honey from a flower’s petals. They slowly exit the room ( just to annoy Steve ) and then make their way to the gardens. Bucky flashes a grin and then turns to Sam.

 

“Thank you. For helping me I mean.”

 

Sam smiles and shrugs.

 

“No problem. Would have done it for anyone.”

 

And he almost gags because hell no he would not.The rest of the aristocracy does not sneak food to the children of the town, or look so beautiful in the outdoors.

 

“...So what do you think?”

 

Sam snaps out of whatever self realization has been brought on, and looks at Bucky. Bucky with his auburn highlights and heavenly dress. Bucky with his smile like the spring he lived in. Bucky, the one he was absolutely fucked for.

 

“I think…”

 

Bucky bursts out laughing and walks further into the garden.

 

“You weren’t listening. That’s alright. Many do not.”

 

Sam quickens his stride and catches the other’s hand in his.

 

“No! No, please. Tell it all again.”

 

And Sam decides that the prince’s rambling about Vermeer and the symbolism of flowers in art is worth it; all for the glow in Bucky’s face when he asked him to speak once more.

 

🌺

 

 **THEY START SPENDING** large amounts of time together. So much, that Steve and Peggy start joking about supervision being needed. Bucky just giggles and drinks very heavy amounts of water. That makes Sam crack a smile.

 

Now they are in the library, having been dragged by a overly zealous Bucky. Sam has really been trying to keep it together, since the petite body of the prince is clothed in sheer trousers, thighs called attention to by the elaborate gold embroidery.

 

The shirt to accompany it is golden itself, made of flowery lace and finished off with a necklace that settles nicely around prominent collar bones.

 

Sam is very grateful that his skin in darker than most, with the redness of Bucky’s skin practically glowing. They had been in the glass garden for over three hours, and the sun did not have places where it could not simper its way through.

 

Bucky has picked the largest tome in the room to read, excitedly highlighting a passage or two he likes with the bright ink of a blue tulip. He glances up and waves Sam over, pointing at various sentences that seem to be about gardening and walkways.

 

He’s a bright star and Sam is colliding, colliding, colliding, colliding.

 

He wants to shatter.

 

He’s briefly aware that the other has stopped talking, but he’s now zeroed in on his lips.

 

And Bucky is right there and —

 

They’re kissing.

 

It’s like someone has taken nectar and poured it, piece by golden piece down Sam’s throat. Except the nectar is warm and carries the searingly sweet taste of love and spring’s kiss with it.

 

They are halfway spread across the book Bucky was so hyped up over, and Sam is trying exceptionally hard not to swear right now because god he tastes so good —

 

Bucky pulls away.

 

He is flushed and utterly breathless. And he grins.

 

“Well.”

 

Sam grins back.

 

“Well.”

 

Bucky is warm against him.

 

**･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.**

**Author's Note:**

> soft kisses.
> 
> \- bunny.


End file.
